The Gourmet
by stars-of-february
Summary: Tsukiyama Shuu has had his eye on the one-eyed ghoul, Ken Kaneki, for the longest time. The smell of him intoxicated his dreams and awakened a voracious appetite in him. However, when he finally gets his hands on the quiet and bookish young man, different sentiments begin to arise...
1. Tear Drop

_A/N: This story begins before Kaneki is lured into the Ghoul Restaurant, so around the first season in the anime._

The crowd yelled and shouted wildly as the Ghoul Restaurant's latest victim ran hopelessly from tonight's scrapper. As he sipped his wine indulgently, Tsukiyama Shuu observed the horrific scene unfolding in front of him.

It had been a long time since he had been properly excited by a show in the restaurant, and this one was not helping. The puny human flailed its arms, crying and sobbing hysterically at the audience, shouting incomprehensible pleas of help. Tsukiyama dabbed his lips with a napkin, a little disgusted by the flecks of spit and mucus flying from the victim's mouth and nose. The crowd cheered loudly, enthralled by the valiant yet fruitless efforts of their soon-to-be dinner.

How Tsukiyama longed to see a real fight happen between a scrapper and a victim. The heady excitement coursing through his veins, the demanding rumble of his stomach, the tingling in the tips of his fingers and toes... nothing could compare to that. He set his wineglass down distastefully. He didn't care much for alcohol anyway, but this wine that they were serving tonight had a distinct undertone of humanly smell. As for the food... everyone else seemed to be satisfied with the thin human that was currently being ripped apart by their very own Taro-chan. The bloody sight made his stomach lurch. That hulking, brainless excuse of a scrapper was not exactly known for his finesse with killing, and it was already causing Tsukiyama an awful case of indigestion. _Dégoûtant_ , he thought bitterly.

The crowd gave another deafening cheer, and Taro yelled in triumph. What once was a living, albeit pitiful human, was now lying in a heap of wrenched-apart, blood-soaked limbs. Coughing politely into his fist, Tsukiyama grabbed his glass of wine and drained it in one. It wasn't nearly strong enough to soothe him, and he snapped his fingers to a nearby waiter for some whisky.

Those irritating CCG members were meddling enough as it was, but now it was getting more difficult for even the most crafty of the Ghoul Restaurant members to lure fresh prey into their secret meeting place, where they dined on the most exquisite of human meat. Nowadays, there were less joyous and gory evenings, and more cold and unpleasant ones, graced by leftover, tough chunks of meat with cheap and lifeless wines. On those nights, Tsukiyama would merely "drink" his wine (or rather, dribble it inconspicuously down his front) and "eat" his food (nibbling bits of meat and spitting it into a napkin). A good night with succulent and flavorful human flesh being served and strong, fruity alcohol available was now rare to get but worth attending, especially for food enthusiasts such as him.

Unfortunately for Tsukiyama, he was getting a feeling that this was not going to be a good night.

A clink of glass to his right told him that his whisky had arrived. Muttering a quick thanks to the waiter, he grabbed the small cup filled with amber liquid and gulped it hastily. The searing flavor of the strong alcohol burned his taste buds pleasantly and tingled for a while afterward. _Délicieux._ As he poured himself another one, the crowd gave another cry as the carcass was dragged away for preparation. All that was left was a splattering of deep red blood and a few stray organs and fingers. The stench was already filling the air, and Tsukiyama drank some more to clear his head. He was already slightly irritated by the less-than-entertaining killing today, and the putrid scent of low-quality innards only managed to plummet his spirits further. Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the cringe-worthy scene and wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, shuddering with disgust. He had high hopes for this place, and he was not going to let it go into ruins like so many ghoul-run establishments had. Tsukiyama stared at his handkerchief unhappily. It would have to be him to bring in the human for the next night. And it would have to be perfect.

Everyone began moving at once, and Tsukiyama snapped out of his reverie with a start. Ah, of course. The food had arrived, and the restless guests were eager to sink their teeth into whatever delicacies the staff of the Ghoul Restaurant had in store for them. Tsukiyama could not refuse the food prepared for them, but he had some qualms about the quality and taste. After all, he wasn't called the Gourmet for nothing.

The waiters circled among the tables, offering plates full of freshly prepared meats of the human slain that night. There was a murmuring of thanks as people received their food and began to eat.

As a waiter set a plate in front of Tsukiyama, he caught the scent of average-tasting meat and organs. He supposed it wasn't terrible, but he still wished that the meat before him was sliced delicately from the skeleton of a premium-quality human, with tender, sweet flesh and the strong aroma of human…

Shaking his head, Tsukiyama cut into the food. Tonight, it was raw human flesh sliced paper-thin, wrapped around organs and congealed blood from a previous killing, garnished with an eyeball. It would have to do, he thought, disappointed. He chewed a piece of meat thoughtfully, absorbing every bit of flavor he could. He could taste the strong smell of human, with a more citrusy aftertaste. Probably some perfume the human was wearing. Following the sweetness were also more subtle, delicate tones of bittersweet aromas, tasting almost reminiscent of coffee. And as he swallowed, he felt the searing sensation of alcohol tickling his throat.

Tsukiyama wiped his mouth with a flourish and stared at his plate. Such a simple plate, yet loaded with lemony-orange sweetness, sharp alcoholic aroma and delicate bitterness... this was much better than he had originally thought. He stood up suddenly, smiling broadly to his dinner companions, and cried out in positive joy.

" _Mes amis,_ this dish... it overflows with layers of goodness! The flavor, the scent, ah!" Tsukiyama shrieked. He grabbed his plate and inhaled it dramatically, throwing his head back while sighing in pleasure.

Everyone clapped, delighted by Tsukiyama's reaction, and continued to eat with gusto. If a dish were to earn Tsukiyama's approval, then the audience deemed it a high-quality food, and such was apparent that night, as people swigged their drinks sloppily and dangled pieces of meat into each others' mouths. It was a bizarre sight to some, but the Ghoul Restaurant's patrons had seen much more of this behavior in the past, when delectable prey almost seemed to walk in of their own accord.

Tsukiyama ate quietly, savoring every morsel of flesh and every sip of whisky as he surveyed the room, proud of the crowd's reaction to his proclamation. People were all congratulating the ghoul who had captured the human for the dish, clamoring for more food and even having conversations with the more than slightly illiterate Taro-chan. Madame A was beside herself with joy at her scrapper's recognition, and stood next to him proudly.

Swallowing his final bite, Tsukiyama folded his napkin and tidied up his table dutifully. While the meal was more than satisfactory, he still felt slightly empty, as if the meal had offered no nourishment and had left him hungry still. In fact, the food had awoken his primal urge to consume. Human or ghoul, it didn't matter.

He got up and moved swiftly, ducking through crowds and tables, ignoring the people who called after him and taking care not to make eye contact with anyone. Tsukiyama wove through them all, focusing on his destination: the back door. That was the place he went to calm himself, to recollect himself, when his desire for meat threatened to overwhelm him.

Flinging open the heavy door with a crash, he staggered into the small lot in the back of the restaurant, where it was completely empty, save for a few distant city lights. Rain pounded on the sidewalk, creating a rhythmic sort of sound that Tsukiyama absorbed desperately, seeking escape from the insanity in his head. He sank to the ground against a brick wall full of graffiti. Trash bags littered the shiny asphalt. Cigarette butts and wrappers were scattered everywhere, soaking in mud and water. Drooping weeds poked out of the cracks in the ground. A small patch of grass in the corner had long since become brown and shriveled, and small rivulets of water dribbled onto it from the warped metal fence in front of it. The place was filthy and full of grime, and yet it one of the few places where Tsukiyama could let down the elegant and flamboyant mask he kept on his face and let out, if only for a moment, the ravaged man inside.

He took several deep breaths and flexed his fingers repeatedly, trying to clear the stress in his head. Tsukiyama tended to get very anxious and stressed when his lust for flesh was not sated. He sometimes compared himself to one of those monstrosities that humans watched in movies for fun... what were they called again? Vampires, or something like that. Apparently they had a fierce longing for blood sometimes, and would go insane without it. He had once seen some sort of film about it, and had been frightened by how similar he was to it.

Tsukiyama stared at the sky above, looking at the few stars visible in the pitch-black night. They glittered faintly and seemed to call him toward them. He reached out a hand to one of the stars and smiled slightly. The beauty was nearly too much to bear, and for some reason, he felt tears prick his eyes. He felt his kakugan activate briefly just as a single tear rolled down his face and fell onto his lap. Staring down, he saw two very peculiar things.

The tear that fell from his eye was blood-red.

The star he had been staring at had winked out and vanished.

He recoiled in fright, regarding the blood-red tear drop on his hand. It smelled like a normal tear, but it was as red as red could be, glinting in his face like a small ruby. He held his handkerchief close to it, unable to wipe it away, but not wanting to see it on his pale skin. Glancing upward, he scanned the sky quickly for the beautiful star, but to no avail. It had vanished. His throat closed up slightly, as if he were fighting back the urge to cry.

Tsukiyama got to his feet, brushing off his pants and drying his rain-soaked face with his hankie, wondering how those events occurred. Was it sheer sadness that overrode his senses and caused him to see that? Was it a freak of nature, perhaps? He made a mental note to stop by at Anteiku the next morning to energize himself with a strong cup of espresso. At this rate, he was going to get maybe a couple of hours of sleep at most, which wasn't unusual for Tsukiyama. Oftentimes, he would be found alone in some bookstore or coffee shop, reading and drinking coffee as if his life depended on it. In more ways than one, it did. The amounts of coffee he consumed in a day more than made up for any shortage of sleep he might have had. Not that he would have been able to sleep anyway, what with all the things he had seen and done in his past.

Tucking away his handkerchief, Tsukiyama Shuu straightened his suit, smoothed his striking blue hair and sauntered back in, a wide smile masking the world of pain he lived in. Night after night, he did this; breaking down in a lonely cement junkyard, picking up the pieces of himself, and putting them back together. He hoped that there would never be a time when he would not be able to find those pieces.

As he strode away, the red tear drop rolled off his hand and onto the ground.

* * *

 _A/N: Yeah, I'm back at it again. My comeback with a Tokyo Ghoul fanfiction hot off the keyboard. And I know, some of you are like why are you doing yaoi, Mei? Why are you even doing an anime fanfic? Do Undertale! and all that. Look guys, I'm trying to improve in writing. That means I'm trying a variety of topics to see where I'm most comfortable with. So if you want me to do Undertale or Naruto or any of that, I will do it. Just not now. And if you're not okay with that, then there are hundreds of other writers that focus solely on whatever fandom you want me to do. If you're fine with waiting and letting me get better as a writer, then thanks for the support, and maybe check out this one while you wait. (Self-advertising FTW) Also, this will not involve a sexual relationship between Tsukiyama and Kaneki. I know that Tsukiyama might seem like that kind of guy, but I want some of Kaneki's "innocence" vibe to rub off of him and maybe teach him a thing or two. Not that Kaneki is as innocent as say, Papyrus, but he is more gentle in season one than some other ghouls. And I'm making this one pretty short. No long-term project, just maybe four or five chaps. We'll see. Once again, thanks for all the support! Oh, and by the way, if you want to really read this story, try listening to "Fu re te fu re ru" by TK from Ling Tosite Sigure while you do. It's the song that inspired me to write this, and what I listened to while I wrote it._

 _Love you all,_

 _Meikai_


	2. Over A Cup Of Coffee

He was very distinctive. With the way he dressed, it wasn't hard to miss him. The elegant walk, the bright-colored suit, the shiny shoes, the blue hair. He had the air of a rich businessman with the glamour of a movie star. It was a little surprising to passers-by to see the dapper young man stroll into a small, plain cafe as striking as a clod of dirt.

As soon as the door chime rang out, a dark-haired boy wearing an eye patch and a purplish-blue haired girl glanced up to see Tsukiyama himself smiling broadly. " _Bonjour, tout le monde_!" he exclaimed buoyantly. He sniffed the air and sighed. "Nothing beats the smell of coffee, no?"

Anteiku wasn't a very fancy place. It was just one of those places that were on the street, right in front of your face, but you wouldn't really notice them. Anteiku was just... there. Clean and pleasant-smelling, it did attract a steady stream of regulars and newcomers alike, with its strong and flavorful coffee made exactly the same every day. They were particularly known for the pretty girl that served there and the kind old man who ran it.

The dark-haired boy looked up in surprise, but quickly turned away, turning red with shyness. Meanwhile, the girl walked up to him, looking him up and down disapprovingly. Tsukiyama smiled inwardly. No doubt this was the infamous Kirishima Touka, his old acquaintance from his younger days as a street ghoul. He noted that she looked a lot less fierce now than in her youth, and some of the anger and loneliness had gone out from her narrowed eyes, but she was still as beautiful as ever. Still, her looks could not make up for the ruthlessness she had lost by coming to Anteiku.

Choosing to ignore her impertinence, he looked over at the shy boy. "Good day," Tsukiyama murmured politely. "I would like to offer my congratulations for your outstanding fight against our wonderful friend Amon from the CCG. You were golden, my dear."

The boy reddened slightly. At a loss for words, he muttered something indistinct and reddened even more. Tsukiyama chuckled darkly. How innocent-looking this one was... he would be interesting to sample... alone, perhaps…

"Hey!" snapped Touka impatiently. "What the hell are you doing here, Tsukiyama? And don't talk to him, Kaneki!" The girl jabbed a finger in his face, glaring blatantly at him with no signs of restraint.

"T-Touka-chan..." mumbled Kaneki, clearly cowed by her sudden outburst. However, some of the other waiters smiled knowingly at Touka's seemingly rude and sassy behavior. Tsukiyama had to bite back a laugh as well, familiar with her brash personality and blunt way of speaking. He remembered how frequently that angry voice used to be directed at him.

"I just came for a quick visit, _ma cherie_ ," Tsukiyama replied, fanning his face arrogantly. "Surely you do not treat all of your customers like this? I hope not..."

Touka put her hands on her hips, contempt in her expression. "Don't beat around the bush, mister. What're you trying to pull, huh?"

Tsukiyama sighed. Today's young people certainly knew no bounds, and standing in front of him was no exception. "Dearest Touka, it does not behoove you to act this way in front of an old friend. I am merely stopping by for a strong cup of coffee and perhaps a warmer greeting than this. But of course, it seems I was asking for too much..."

"You were," growled Touka. She stared at him with extreme loathing. "Get out of here before I tear your ass apart, Tsukiyama!"

Tsukiyama sighed dramatically, looking regretfully at Touka. "You were so much more... cold when we first met each other. Fearless and bold, that's how ghouls remembered you. Shame that you could not stay that way. You were very attractive in those days."

Snarling, Touka nearly lunged at him before Tsukiyama glanced over at Kaneki. The young man was quite nervous-looking, and gave a small jump as Tsukiyama strode over, smiling slightly. He paused for a moment, suddenly a bit nervous as well, and took a breath. _No need to get so flustered over a weakling like him_ , Tsukiyama chided himself.

"Kaneki Ken, hmm? Rest assured that we will meet again... over a cup of coffee, I hope."

He stepped away smoothly, leaving a shocked Kaneki and a furious Touka. As he walked away at a leisurely pace, he could hear their conversation pick up again.

"Kaneki, don't hang around with him! That guy's bad news around the 20th Ward... he's involved with things you shouldn't be a part of... especially you." Touka snapped.

"H-huh? What's wrong with him? That man seemed very friendly." Kaneki replied, nonplussed.

"It's a lot to explain. Just stay away from him, got it?!" growled Touka.

"Okay, Touka-chan..."

Tsukiyama had to laugh a little as he left Anteiku. His quick and smooth exit had produced the effect he had wanted, and it was too funny. He was tired and more than a little grumpy now without his daily caffeine, but Touka was alive and well, the new boy named Kaneki intrigued him more than he was comfortable with, and Anteiku was running as well as it always had been. If only he had been able to get a cup of coffee to go with it, it would have been a near-perfect day. Tsukiyama scanned the area for a cafe, hoping that whatever shop he stumbled upon served strong espresso.

* * *

Tsukiyama picked at his dinner thoughtfully inside of his lonely dining room of his just-as-lonely house, thinking about his experience at Anteiku. The boy... Kaneki or something... there was something about him that he couldn't shake. He wasn't particularly handsome or meaty, but there was a strong smell emanating from him... not the most enticing he'd ever scented, but something irresistibly sweet, seductive and soft. The three S's of human-hunting. Typically, he would not expect this from normal humans, much less a male, but it was definitely there. Unless, of course... he was not human. There was not a large chance that Kaneki was not a human, but then again, he was wearing an eye patch. Was he a one-eyed ghoul? The possibility was infinitesimal, but it was still a possibility. Perhaps it was just one of those idiotic fashion trends that people tended to follow these days, but Tsukiyama wasn't so sure. That Kaneki fellow didn't seem terribly interested those awful fads. He had that air of a bookish person that did nothing but sit silently and read. If he was that kind of person, then he was even more attractive to Tsukiyama. There was nothing he hated more than a shallow man or woman. Especially since the women of those type never satisfied him…

At this thought, his pants got uncomfortably strained. _Oh, dear..._ Glancing down, he saw a considerable bulge in his trousers, looking quite impatient to be attended to.

Standing up, he sighed and pushed away his plate of mostly untouched human meat. It had been a long time since he had bedded a woman, and he was not going to be doing that again anytime soon. Not when he had prey to attend to.

"Oh yes, Kaneki Ken," whispered Tsukiyama huskily. "You will be my next main course, and you will be the most delicious I have ever had."

* * *

After calling many of the Ghoul Restaurant's patrons, there was now quite the buzz around the ghouls of the ward about the sublime new human Tsukiyama Shuu had found for their entertainment and appetites. He had made sure that it was well-publicized that such a delicacy was going to be served at their little establishment, and that the show with the scrapper was going to be dazzling to watch. He had to make sure of it.

It was still quite early in the morning as Tsukiyama finished contacting all of the guests coming in a fortnight, and he was still dressed in his (just like the rest of his clothes) classy, fashionable sleepwear: a loose-fitting linen white shirt, burgundy flannel pants, and a deep, velvety red sleeping robe. All very high-end and elegant, befitting an elite of ghouls in Tokyo, as it should. If there was one thing Tsukiyama disliked more than the shallow, it was the less fashionable people of the world. Tasteless outfits, terrible makeup and accessories... it made him shudder just thinking about it.

Yawning, Tsukiyama dragged himself to his spotless kitchen to prepare a cup of extra-strong coffee. He really needed an energy boost today, especially since the cafe he had visited yesterday had served him the vilest, most disgusting excuse of a coffee he had ever tasted in his life. Bland, almost watery and much too sweet, it had made him want to gag. Needless to say, he immediately poured it into a garbage can and left as quickly as he could manage. Tsukiyama made a note to himself to never visit that godawful place ever again.

He opened various cupboards, taking out a tin of coffee grounds and a sugar bowl. As he poured water into his kettle from his sink, Tsukiyama stared out into the wide window in front of the counter, admiring the streaks of rosy pink and soft orange beginning to creep into the light periwinkle sky. It was breathtaking to behold, and he closed his eyes to savor the moment briefly. The sunrise reminded him of home.

Familiar misery consumed him for a moment, but he pushed it away. The pain of those memories were too much to bear. He couldn't dwell on them for long, and if he did, the weight of it would crush him like a bug. If he were to be crushed, the bright, glamorous and indulgent Tsukiyama the world knew him as would vanish as quickly as he had appeared into the dark lives of ghouls.

The water in the kettle bubbled and whined as it slowly rose to a seething boil. The sounds of the bubbling water floated around in his head, bouncing around his skull and echoing throughout his body. It was almost hypnotic, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to stretch out into eternity. The streaks of color rose higher into the sky as the kettle whined, and finally released puffs of steam from the spout, indicating its finish.

Tsukiyama lifted the hot kettle from the stove and poured out some water into a mug, steam wafting into the air in spirals. His hands moved automatically, measuring the grounds carefully and adding the sugar with the delicacy of a surgeon. Soon, his morning refreshment was completed, and he blew gently on his coffee. Tsukiyama didn't bother with cream and whipped garbage and the rest of that nonsense. To him, the best coffee was often the simplest one.

 _Maybe that's why I like Kaneki Ken... no ruffles or anything. Divine the way he is._

Tsukiyama set down his coffee, alarmed at this thought. He couldn't like Kaneki. He was barely a man, no doubt, and was much too weak and innocent. It was simply best to enjoy him as a meal and nothing more. If he got closer to him, it would be like a moth to a flame. Much too risky.

 _Why not? There's nothing to lose._

On the contrary…

He had everything to lose.

* * *

 _A/N: I used to be one of those readers that would be like, "Why don't the authors update more? I'm so tired of waiting for a new chapter..."_

 _Now I get those authors._

 _Life got in the way of writing and a lot of crap went my way, but I never forgot about you guys! Along the way, I collected a ton of ideas and smol plot bunnies and I should be back to churning out a chapter for you guys. I think I might update about weekly or so, just to keep the inspiration flowing. I've had my fair share of writer's block, and it's like getting stuck in a mud pit. You can't get out and you just gotta wait it out until a glorious solution comes to you._

 _Anyway, that's it for this chapter! Thank you all so much for sticking 'round or just starting this fic! Either way, I hope I didn't disappoint!_

 _Love you all,_

 _Meikai_


End file.
